


dreams as sweet as honey

by cuteloops



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow series - Gemma T. Leslie
Genre: Angst, Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, Pancakes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-22
Updated: 2015-10-22
Packaged: 2018-04-27 14:20:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5051764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cuteloops/pseuds/cuteloops
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone has nightmares. It's better not to face them alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pitch

They’re on holiday at one of the Pitch family summer homes when it happens for the first time in years - Baz has a nightmare.

He awakens next to Simon with only so much as a short gasp, but his heartbeat is quickening. (Yes, vampires still have heartbeats.) (Yes, he had to explain this concept to Simon.) He massages his temples slowly, counting down from one hundred. He makes it to ninety-two before he can’t stand himself anymore. After throwing the duvet off, he wanders to the master bath and splashes water on his face. The sound of the tap must be louder than he’d anticipated; Simon stirs. 

“Fuck,” Baz mumbles. 

His golden-haired boyfriend squints at him sleepily when he returns to bed. “It’s not morning yet,” he mumbles. 

“I know, Snow, go back to sleep.”

“Why are you awake?” 

Before Baz can come up with an excuse that won’t concern him, Simon is sitting up and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “It’s nothing, Simon.” He sighs. 

“That doesn’t sound like nothing. Are you okay? Are you sick?”

“I’m fine. Just… a bit, ah, warm.”

“You’re a terrible liar, Baz.”

“I had a nightmare. It’s… I’ve had them before, but not for a long time.” 

“Come here,” Simon murmured, shifting so that his boyfriend could lean on his shoulder. 

Baz feels his lip quiver before he feels the tears trickling down his cheek. “It was my mother.”

“Mmm.” Simon takes his hand, gently stroking his fingers. “What about her?”

He bites his lip before speaking again. “The nursery.” Baz tries to trap a rising sob in his throat, but fails. 

Simon takes note, tilting Baz’s chin towards his own face. “I’m so sorry.”

Flinging himself into Simon’s arms, Baz wept. “It’s n-not your fault.”

“How can I help you?” Simon asked, running his fingers through the thin silk of Baz’s hair. “Oh, Baz, it’s alright.”

“Just let me cry. I’ll b-be fine, just let me c-cry,” Baz choked out. 

“You miss her.”

“Obviously.” Baz can’t keep himself from rolling his eyes. 

“She loved you so much, Baz. She’d be so proud of you. You helped to avert a war and save the World of Mages.”

Simon can feel Baz nod against his chest. He’s certain the ratty sweatshirt he’s been sleeping in must be drenched with the vampire’s tears. (Do vampires cry?) (Apparently.) 

He’s not sure if it’s moments or hours later, but after sobbing loudly into Simon’s chest for quite some time, Baz finally stops. 

“You look like a wreck,” Simon notes when Baz lifts his head, still clutching Simon’s sweatshirt. 

“I’m sure,” Baz grumbled.

“Your eyes are all red and puffy,” Simon informs him. 

“Yes, thank you, I’ve fed recently,” Baz scoffs. “If it’s bothering you, I can find somewhere else to sleep.” He starts to move. 

“Who said it was bothering me?” Simon murmurs, tracing his fingers around the back of Baz’s neck. “You told me to let you cry, and I did. You look awful and I’m sure you feel even worse. Tell me how to help you.” He pauses, before thinking again and adding, “Please?”

“Just go back to sleep. I’ll be alright in the morning.”

“But you’re not alright now,” Simon presses.

Baz takes a deep breath. “When I was younger, I used to have nightmares all the time. You know, stayed up too late listening to ghost stories and such. I’d wake up having fits and my mother was always the one to comfort me - until she wasn’t. She always knew what to do. She sang lullabies and rubbed my back until I fell asleep.” 

Simon laughs, but it’s not a teasing laugh. It’s a warm laugh, a relieved laugh. “Oh, Baz, I can do that. Well, sort of. I can’t sing.” 

Baz offers him a watery half-smile. “Thank you, Simon.” He offers his boyfriend a quick, chaste peck on the lips. 

“You’re welcome, Baz. Roll over.” 

Baz obliges, and he can feel the warmth of Simon’s fingers through the thin silk of his nightshirt. He sighs deeply, pushing back against the tenderness of his boyfriend’s hands. 

When Simon says he can’t sing, he isn’t lying. He attempts to hum something, but it’s so off-key that it’s barely recognizable. Baz thinks it may be some sort of Welsh lullaby, and he wonders where Simon would ever have heard such a thing. He wonders a lot of things about Simon sometimes, and he thinks that maybe there’s quite a lot about Simon that he doesn’t know. 

Finally, after some time, Baz’s breathing has settled. He’s no longer shaking. He rolls over abruptly, finding Simon smiling sleepily back at him. 

“Thank you, Simon,” he murmurs. He presses a kiss to his favorite mole, the one that he wanted to kiss for so long and now does every time he has a chance. “I feel a lot better. Thank you for letting me cry. You may not have noticed, but it’s not something I do often.”

“Really? I never would have guessed,” Simon jabs. He lets out a long, deep yawn before ruffling Baz’s hair. “Tyrannus Bas-” he drawls. 

“I’m going to stop you right there,” Baz interjects. 

“Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch, my beautiful vampire boyfriend. I,” he stops again to yawn once more, “I love you. A lot.” 

Baz kisses him one last time, squarely on the lips, before wrapping his arms around Simon and burying his face in his boyfriend’s hair. 

Simon groans when the sun bursts through the window - “This is an ungodly hour and nothing should be alive” - and smashes one of the downy Pitch-summer-home pillows into his face. It’s apparent that neither of the two got nearly enough sleep. Baz pretends to protest when Simon would rather stay in and watch the entire original Star Wars franchise - twice - instead of doing anything remotely productive. 

They barely make it through half of The Empire Strikes Back before Simon is snoring, but Baz doesn’t mind. He absentmindedly traces his hands over the Simon-shaped blanket lump curled up next to him on the couch, and finds himself humming something akin to a lullaby.


	2. Snow

Everything is burning. 

Everything is burning. The forest is on fire, and the grass beneath his feet, and even his socks are scorched; flames are licking his ankle. He can’t see through the canopy of blazing leaves, but Simon is fairly certain that the sky is smoldering too. 

The outside burns, but the inside does too. 

His intestines feel like they’ve been stretched out too far and twisted into knots. The blood  
rushing through his veins feels like magma, bubbling hot and thick under the surface. His mouth is dry. 

Everything is burning, and he can see the Mage, watching him, just beyond a wall of fire. 

The Mage isn’t like a Visiting; he isn’t shrouded in the veil. It’s as though he’s  
formed himself of ash and smoke and stone and destruction. His face is blank; his eyes seem to bore into Simon’s soul. 

He raises a hand and the burning intensifies. Simon screams. 

And then wakes up. 

He’s panting and drenched in sweat and trying - unsuccessfully - to keep himself from whimpering. He attempts to dry his tears with the quilt on his bed, but they’re coming too fast to keep up. 

“Snow?” 

Simon’s breath catches. He recognizes the voice. Baz shifts, sitting up, and reaches for the light. Simon had forgotten that he and Baz are sharing a bed tonight. They do most nights, but sometimes he still fails to remember that his vampire boyfriend is next to him. 

“Go back to sleep, Baz,” he mumbles, holding his head in his hands. 

Baz stiffens. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing.”

“Of course it’s something,” Baz scoffs. “And don’t tell me to go to sleep. I can get by on a solid three and a half hours.”

Simon groans, but doesn’t move. Baz elbows him lightly.

“Please, Baz. Just… leave me be,” he says, voice muffled by the quilt. 

Baz puts a hand in his hair. “Come on, now. Please talk to me. Please, Simon.”

He lifts his head at the sound of his name. Baz pulls Simon closer to him, running a hand through his golden curls. “Was it a nightmare?” he murmurs. 

He can feel Simon nodding next to him, still sniffling slightly, his breath hitching whenever he tries to inhale too deeply. 

“Oh, Simon. Poor thing,” Baz whispers, pressing a gently kiss into Simon’s hair. Before Simon can register what is happening, Baz is standing next to him, offering his hand. “Come on. Get up.” 

Simon eyes him suspiciously, wiping his nose on his sleeve before taking Baz’s hand and following him down the hall and into the kitchen. He’s not wearing socks, and the floor is freezing.

Baz gestures to the kitchen worktop. “Sit,” he orders.

“You know I…” Simon stops to sniffle. “L-like it when you boss me around.” Even through watery eyes, he attempts a smile.

Baz grins. “I know.” He begins to rummage around the cabinets. Milk, flour, salt, egg, baking powder, butter… “Where does Bunce keep the sugar?” He turns to Simon, who shrugs. Humming softly, Baz continues to poke around. “Oh, never mind. I found it.” He pulls out a bowl and begins to mix ingredients together, all the while keeping an eye on his roommate-turned-friend-turned-lover. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asks. 

Simon shrugs. “There’s not much to say, I guess. I had a nightmare. Everything was on fire and I felt wrong and the Mage was there. We were in the woods. It just felt… wrong. Everything was wrong.”

The vampire nods, still stirring. He’s half tempted to magick the necessary cookware out of the cupboards, but he knows Simon will like it better this way, so he ferrets about underneath the sink for a bit when his concoction has been sufficiently stirred. Baz frowns deeply when he notices that Simon is still quivering slightly. “Are you okay, Simon?”

“I will be,” Simon says. “Just… a little shaken up is all.” He sighs, massaging his temples. “What are you doing?” he asks when he looks up again, curiosity piqued, as Baz turns on the stove. 

Baz winks. “Be patient.” He turns his back to Simon, focusing on the work at hand. 

“I’ve never been good at that.” Simon sniffles, but to Baz’s relief, the tears seem to be done for now. 

“So noted,” Baz says, laughing. Is it insensitive to laugh at a time like this? He hopes not. He knows that Simon’s laugh is one of his favorite things in the world to hear. It always manages to cheer him up. “Close your eyes,” Baz orders after a few moments. When Simon opens them again, he laughs. 

Nothing is burning. It is not quite yet three o’clock in the morning, it is raining gently, and Simon’s boyfriend has just set down a steaming plate of pancakes and a tub of butter in front of him. 

“Have I told you lately how much I love you?” Simon asks. He starts to shovel butter onto his pancakes, but pauses momentarily. Instead, he stands and embraces Baz. “Thank you,” he murmurs, burying his face into the silk of Baz’s pajamas. 

Baz presses his lips to Simon’s golden curls once more, tightening his grip around the other. “You’re welcome, Simon.”

Simon isn’t quite ready to go back to bed - not yet - and so they curl up on the couch together. He eats his pancakes and convinces Baz to watch an episode of Doctor Who even though they’ve seen it before and Simon doesn’t even really like this Doctor anyways. One episode turns into four and after that Baz loses track. He’s not sure when Simon falls asleep - he’s only alerted to the fact at all when his boyfriend’s breathing slows and he drops his fork on the floor - but he doesn’t dare to move too much. 

When Penelope finds them in the morning, Baz has a hand tangled in Simon’s hair and Simon is curled up into a ball, his head in Baz’s lap. She throws a fleecy blanket over the two of them, casts a "Sweet Dreams" and kisses them each on the forehead before making herself a cup of coffee and heading to class. She loves her boys.


	3. Bunce

Penelope winces when the door creaks as she opens it. She tries to cast “Peace and Quiet”, but her voice is quivering too thoroughly to annunciate properly. She groans inwardly when she realizes that Baz is sharing a bed with Simon tonight, and she lets out an external sigh when he sits up to face her. 

“Bunce?” he murmurs sleepily. 

“Go back to sleep,” she orders. “And call me Penny.”

“What are you doing in here, Penny?” he asks. 

“I could ask you the same thing. I live here,” she reminds him. 

It’s dark and she can’t tell for sure, but Penelope is almost certain that Baz rolls his eyes. “Are you okay?”

She nods tersely. (He can see her, right?) (Of course he can, vampires have great night vision.) “I just needed to make sure Simon was… here. Physically. And actually alright.”

“Were you worried he wouldn’t be?” Penelope nods again, and Baz sighs, patting the space on the edge of the bed. “Here. Come sit.”

“It’s just a stupid nightmare, I know. I know it was just a nightmare. But they always worry me anyways. When I was younger, I would sneak into my little siblings’ bedrooms to check on them because I worried - for some reason - that they wouldn’t be there in the morning. It’s like that.” 

“I understand,” he tells her. “Sometimes I wake up and have to touch him just to be sure he’s real.” 

They sit for a few moments in silence before Penelope stands. “I should go.”

“Are you sure?” Baz asks. “You still look upset. I can practically hear your heart pounding.”

“I’ll be fine,” Penelope says, casting one last glance at Simon’s golden curls fanned about his pillow.

“Can you do me a favor?”

“Anything, Baz.”

“Stay in here tonight.”

Penelope stops short of the door. “Are… are you sure?” she asks him. 

“I’d feel better if you did,” he says. 

Baz throws back the quilt, standing next to the bed. He approaches Penelope awkwardly, as though he’s not entirely sure what to do with himself, and pulls her into a stiff hug. “Simon is fine. You’re fine. I’m fine.” 

She pats his back. “Thanks, Baz. I really appreciate it.” 

He gestures for her to squeeze into the space next to Simon. When he gets in bed after her, he’s almost falling off the side but he doesn’t care. (Vampires have extraordinary balance.) (Okay, most vampires. Baz has slightly above-average balance.)

With one hand, Penelope strokes Simon’s hair. (It’s a calming thing for both of them. She’s done it since they were second-years whenever one or both is stressed.) Her other hand lays limply at her side until she finds Baz’s and squeezes tightly. He doesn’t let go. 

Penelope tries to slip out of the room in the early light of the morning, before the boys wake up. It’s Sunday, so she has a few hours of buffer time. She’s only shifted slightly when Baz rolls over. “Lie back down, Penny,” he mutters.

“But I-”

“Shh.”

When she wakes up again, she’s certain it’s at least two in the afternoon. She hears bickering outside of the bedroom door - Simon’s bedroom door - and she’s startled to find the bed empty, save for herself. 

Finally, the door bursts open. “We brought you breakfast in bed,” Simon announces. 

Baz rolls his eyes, but his half-smile betrays him. “Good morning, Penny. Sleep well?”

The tray falls to the floor - it’s alright, there’s a spell for that - when Penny throws herself at her housemate and his boyfriend. “Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter, hope you enjoy it! It's a little shorter than I like my chapters to be, but I wasn't planning on writing it in the first place so it's kind of bonus. Feel free to message me here or at carry-on-magicath on tumblr. If there's something you'd like me to write, go ahead and ask! I can't guarantee it will be timely, but if I like the idea it may get written eventually. Please, please, please leave feedback and, if it's not too much trouble, watch for my new works!


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